


Intimate

by valda



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Not Canon Compliant, Out of Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-26 21:44:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5021620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valda/pseuds/valda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Earl Harlan is the primary suspect in the murder of Cecil Palmer. The only suspect, to be exact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intimate

Earl stared at the cement wall three feet from his face, and his eyes burned dry and hot.

It was funny how thinking about keeping your eyes open made it so hard to actually do it. Like thinking about breathing, being so aware of each inhale and exhale that you could no longer imagine your body doing it without conscious thought.

But Earl would not close his eyes. He would _not_. He knew what would happen if he did.

He shifted on the cot, which was little more than a plank of wood mounted to the wall, and fought back sudden bile, swallowing against the acid in his throat. No. No. He would not do this. Not again. A reeking odor wafted up from the featureless hole in the floor that served as his toilet--the stench of the last time he'd thrown up. It was overwhelming. Earl let out an involuntary whimper, clamping a hand over his mouth.

And in his desperation, his eyes slid shut.

 _Cecil_.

Cecil's body emerging from the sand like an ancient monument, uncovered not by archaeologists but by a pack of hungry spiderwolves.

Cecil's favorite tunic, ripped to pieces.

Cecil's furry pants, halfway down bruised thighs.

Cecil's throat, discolored, broken.

Cecil's fingers, unnaturally bent.

Cecil's skin, marked with cuts and scratches and the fingerprints of Cecil's attacker.

Cecil's killer.

Cecil's murderer.

Cecil was dead.

Earl lurched forward, knees cracking onto the concrete floor as he scrabbled toward the hole. And then he was heaving, hard and dry and in vain, his stomach long since empty.

~

There would be no trial. Trials were things that happened on TV. They didn't happen in Night Vale.

Earl didn't want a trial. He didn't want Cecil's death played out in front of the whole town like entertainment. He didn't want to see the sidelong glances, to hear the whispers. He didn't want to watch Carlos mourn, to see his own pain mirrored in the scientist's eyes.

He didn't want to see anyone. Everyone in town hated him. And rightly so. He hated himself, for not being there, for not saving Cecil.

He didn't want to live in a world without Cecil in it.

Earl sat on the cot, forced his eyes to stay open, and hoped City Council would hurry up and devour him.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been here. Maybe City Council was on vacation. Maybe the Sheriff's Secret Police had a backlog of criminals to go through before they got to him. The cell had no windows and of course no clock, so he had no idea what time it was. He had yet to be fed, if that was even going to happen.

It didn't matter. It was just something to think about while he stared at the wall. Something to think about that wasn't the only thing his mind seemed to want to think about: the images that flashed across the backs of his eyelids whenever he blinked.

Earl started at a loud _clunk_ , then realized that someone was unlocking the featureless metal door that lay beyond the bars of his cell. He turned his head to watch as the heavy door slowly swung away, revealing a dim hallway and a group of guards with nightsticks.

"Visitor for you, Harlan," one of them said.

Earl sighed. "No thanks."

"It's not optional."

~

They led him into a narrow room with blank walls and a second door opposite the one they'd entered. A long table sat at the center of the room, flanked by two chairs. One of the chairs was a normal metal folding chair. The other chair, the one on Earl's side of the table, was bolted to the floor and featured arm and leg shackles. The guards strapped him down, then moved around the table and opened the opposite door. "You can come in now," one of them said.

"Thanks," responded an instantly recognizable voice, and Earl fought to control a fresh wave of nausea.

Carlos stepped in, brushing down the front of his pristine lab coat and then running a hand back through his mess of hair. He smiled at Earl and sat down in the folding chair. Glancing over his shoulder at the guards, he asked, "Would you mind giving us some privacy?"

"Uh. It's not standard procedure," one of the guards said.

"Aw, come on. Just for a little bit." Carlos flashed another, broader smile.

"Five minutes," the guard grunted. And then all the guards left the room, closing the door behind them.

Carlos turned his smile back to Earl. The scientist didn't seem to comprehend how odd this sort of behavior was from the Sheriff's Secret Police. Then again, people tended to want to do things for people like Carlos, and people like Carlos tended to get their way.

Earl tried not to let his distaste show on his face. There was only one reason he could think of for Carlos to be here, after all. Earl stared down at his wrist restraints and forced himself to mutter, "I didn't do it."

"Oh, I know."

Earl blinked. Brow furrowing, he raised his head. "You...what?"

"I know you didn't do it."

"I...um...oh," Earl faltered.

Carlos made a noise then, high and shaking, his lips twitching up. A long moment passed before Earl finally identified the incongruous sound. It was a giggle.

"He was supposed to be immortal," the scientist said.

Earl blinked. Of course Cecil wasn't _immortal_. He was the voice of Night Vale. The station existed outside of space and time. These were obvious facts...

...facts that Carlos, an outsider, wouldn't know.

"Oh," he said, gut twisting, bile rising again. "You didn't know. You thought...you thought you'd have him forever."

"Well yeah," Carlos said. His voice was oddly high. "If he wasn't immortal, he should have told me. It's funny, with how much he talked, that that never came up."

Earl supposed he should say something, so he said, "Huh."

Carlos let out that peculiar giggle again. "He was such a blabbermouth. Sometimes you'd just want him to shut up, you know?"

Earl turned his eyes to the floor. His voice came haltingly as he fought not to choke on the bile. "Could you. I mean. Stop that."

Carlos went silent. Earl looked back up to see that the scientist's lips had frozen in a discomfiting grin. He quickly looked away.

"Sorry," Carlos said as Earl studied the tabletop, "it's just all so silly. That this happened."

"Silly," Earl repeated.

"Not scientific at _all_." Carlos started giggling again, then slapped a hand over his mouth. "Oops. Sorry. It's just--he really liked scientists, didn't he?"

Earl bucked involuntarily in the chair as another wave of nausea roiled through him. "Please," he gritted through clenched teeth, wishing his hands were free so he could cover his mouth. He didn't know what words came next. What he wanted from Carlos.

Carlos leaned across the table and looked Earl in the eyes. "Thank you," he said softly, and he was smiling again.

The door behind Carlos eased open. "Time's up, Mr. Scientist," the guard said.

"Okay!" Carlos chirped. He rose from the chair and headed for the door without looking at Earl again. "I appreciate you giving me that time!"

"No problem," the guard said, his voice fading away as he guided Carlos down the hallway beyond the door. "I know what you're going through, you deserved the chance..."

The footsteps receded, and for a moment there was silence, and Earl was alone. He squeezed his eyes shut and the images returned, only now he saw motion, now he saw it _happening_. He saw Carlos giggling, bearing down on Cecil's throat, ignoring Cecil's terrified eyes and choked screams, crushing his fingers, tearing his tunic, jerking his pants down and forcing, forcing, forcing...

The guards returned, and Earl's eyes snapped open. "Did you hear that?" he asked wildly. "Did you hear what he said?"

One of the guards struck Earl hard across the face. "The man's in shock and you're the reason why. Shut up, murderer."

"Let's go, Harlan," a different guard put in. "It's time for you to be devoured by City Council."


End file.
